The fragility of morals
by That eccentric
Summary: A dream of a love she cannot experience is what drives a broken Christine to an action that changes her life forever. The girl who was all goodness and light must now face the reality of her tainted world as a woman, whose struggle to survive in love has destroyed all beauty and innocence in her life.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm so excited to start this new fic, the idea came to me and I just went with it. I really hope you enjoy this story as much as I am enjoying writing it and as usual comments and constructive criticism is most welcome** **Chapter Two is already completed and should be up in a matter of days I just wanted to test the waters with this first…so enjoy!**

 **Chapter One**

Blood trickled down the sleeve of my nightgown, staining the white cotton in deep crimson veins. Our eyes met; his bloodshot and frightened. Mine unblinking and in irrefutable, uncontrollable horror as my trembling hand dropped the knife that killed my husband.

"Chris..tine" He whispered, as he fell to the stone cold tiles, clutching his abdomen as blood oozed through his pale fingers, dripping like hot rain.

Time stopped. Regrettably it could not be reversed.

 _What had I done?_

It was no accident. The deadly concoction of anger and fear that coursed through me like a burning fire fuelled my sudden thirst for revenge. Revenge against a man whom from the moment those damning words "I do" passed through my lips had held me hostage in my own home for eight long, torturous years. Revenge against a man who didn't just deceive me, but who repeatedly berated, beat and raped me, whilst publically disguising himself as my brave saviour whom had single handily rescued me from a life with a monster.

Little did the world know behind the façade of the great Viscount; Raoul de Chagny.

0o0

The night began as always, with Raoul leaving me alone in his decadent townhouse that served as our home and my own personal prison for the last eight years. Once the pride of his inheritance, Raoul's love of gambling, alcohol and prostitutes had meant the family fortune was virtually gone, and this once grand house was now a neglected, decrepit tomb that I desperately struggled to maintain alone.

It had not always been this way. It seemed so long ago now, and we were both undeniably different people back then; younger, happier, madly in love. Oh how I loved him! He was perfect and kind and he loved me, so much so that he risked his own life to save mine. But after we married I lost that man. Raoul's businesses failed, too many risks and too little experience, we would've managed had not Raoul resorted to his…methods of coping. Slowly our once safe and passionate love morphed into ugliness and pain as I watched this once magnificent man transform into a monster, and my own living nightmare.

I tried so desperately not to look to the past. But now, as I lay that night in my freezing bed waiting for Raoul to return, I could not help but think about all those years ago…about Erik and that night. It was years since I had let my mind drift to him and the pain and ache I felt, but how my life was right now there was no more pain I could feel.

Should I have stayed with a murderer? A psychopathic villain? Perhaps not. But over the years I had come to understand that our past actions do not define us as people, and that however good or evil a person may seem to be that can all change…

My thought was interrupted by the sudden sound of the front door to the house crashing open, shocking me back to the present moment as I heard the noise of a drunken Raoul stumbling into the hallway. Normally I would lie frozen in fear pretending to be asleep to avoid his drunken wrath, but tonight was different for some reason, and I found myself wrapping my nightgown around my tense shoulders and tip toeing down the stairs.

There I found Raoul leaning against the unlit fire place in the half empty living room, clumsily swigging a bottle of red wine as the scarlet liquid fell down his unshaven chin. I felt no pity only disgust and regret for the mistake I had made in marrying such a brute, as I hovered observing this revolting yet unsurprising display. Suddenly he swung around, wavering slightly from the suddenness of the action but clutching the ledge of the fire place for balance.

"Little Lotteeeee…" He slurred, a snarl twitching at the corner of his stained lips. I couldn't help but grimace as he tainted this once tender nickname that had made me swoon and fall irrevocably in love with my charming lover.

"Raoul, please put the bottle down and come to bed…it-it's late and y-y-you should rest" I stammered my spine tingling as a wicked gleam crossed his once honest and trusting eyes as he threw back the last drop of wine before hurling the bottle across the room as glass ricocheted across the floorboards.

"Ahhh Christineeee" he growled "My _beloved_ wife, who is so embarrassed by her failure of a husband that she would try to send him to bed without a kiss goodnight?" His arms opened, inviting me to step into his threatening embrace. Hesitantly I stepped forward, hoping that if I adhered to his wishes that he would come out of this primal mood that I had witnessed one too many times. Suddenly Raoul lunged forward, his arms grabbing my shoulders with such brute force that I yelped in pain as he spun me round pushing my back hard against the ledge of the mantel piece.

"You are my wife! You do as I say" he hissed, his alcoholic breath hot against my skin before his lips pressed hard against mine, his tongue like a serpent trying to choke me as he thrust his body hard against mine pinning me back.

This was no unusual experience. Eight long years I had endured this. After a while, I had stopped thinking about what my life could've been, how different everything could've been. But then I suppose, aside from my father the men in my life had never been truly reliable. What I would do to feel real love that didn't turn so… ugly.

I couldn't take it any longer, as Raoul began to loosen the buckle on his jeans his actions becoming more volatile I pushed him firmly back, sending him staggering across the room before he clumsily regained his balance.

"Brave are we Christine?" he spat, his teeth gritting together staring me down like a lion hunting its prey. Fear sent the hairs on my neck a stand and I ran into the kitchen, confused and not knowing where to escape to in this house more like a prison, with an enraged Raoul hot on my toes.

We stood behind the large wooden kitchen table, eyes locked on the other, our breaths heavy.

Then… I spied it, lying just to my side. A sharp kitchen knife I must've left out from dinner earlier. Whether it was the adrenaline, the years of torment or something much…darker I did not know. The only thing my mind was sure of is that tonight I would no longer live this life any longer.

Raoul followed my darting eye, but he was too drunk and I was too fast. My hand swooped out with one swift motion and at the same time Raoul moved to grab it I plunged the knife deep into his stomach and pulled it out as fast.

As he fell to the floor his breathing became quick and shallow. I couldn't think, it felt like a horrific nightmare. I staggered out of the room my hands red from the splash of the blood as I hastily wiped them onto my white night gown. I had to leave. It was around midnight and rain thundered down heavily outside. I stood between the house and the outside frozen in shock. Before the sound of Raoul crashing through the house shocked me to my senses.

"Stop!" he screamed "Christine stop!"

But I ran. Barefoot in the pouring rain, with my nightdress on I ran senselessly and wildly down the street as the rain splashed around me and the sky thundered up above.

 _What had I done?_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey Guys! Please feel free to skip these notes most the time it's just a little ramble anyway and of no particular significance to the story. Anyway my life's going through some crazy changes at the moment and with all the stress and anxiety floating around writing this fic is really giving me a lengthened period of time for myself for a change and to just sit down and think about a world and a life that isn't my own. In short I love writing this story! As always I live for your feedback so feel free to drop some comments or questions and I'll make sure to get back to you. Thanks and enjoy!**

 **Chapter Two**

I ran.

 _"What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?"_

The sky crashed above me, covered with dark heavy clouds that hid the moon out of sight as rain poured down on the cobbled streets forming tiny rivers that felt more like oceans.

As my bare feet rushed through the culminating puddles and cataracts I replayed the moment again and again; the knife, my hand… _the blood_.

I couldn't breathe.

Stopping next to a small alleyway by the side of one of the grandiose town houses, I fell to the floor. A sudden bubble of stomach bile forced its way out of my mouth, splashing disgustingly over my drenched nightgown and shaking hands. I sobbed violently, trembling and unable to move from the vomit ridden ground as I waited for the night to engulf me whole.

I was a... _murderer._

"Oh Raoul" I whispered as rain flooded down upon my exhausted frame.

I had called Raoul a monster... I had called Erik a monster. Now I had become my own nightmare.

What was I to do?

More than anything in this moment I pleaded for death to find me. Lying on the cold ground I prayed for sweet release from this empty and cruel world that had done nothing but try to destroy my very spirit. Everything that I had ever loved; my father, my music, Raoul…Erik. Everything that I had ever held dear in this world had been ripped away from me. Once there was a time I had viewed the world in such lightness and beauty, now all I could see was an endless eternity of bleak isolation and misery. What was the point in life when I could never truly live?

Accepting my fate I lay on the sodden ground, as the freezing rain settled over my weeping form and trickled down my cheeks, mingling with my tears until neither was distinguishable from the other.

"Death will come soon" I reassured myself. "I'll be away from this nightmare. Death will come soon."

Slowly the world began to feel more and more distant, as the roar from the storm seemed to quieten and the clamorous voices in my mind slowly dissipated into the night air.

" _This is nice_ " I thought, as my eyelids shut and I succumbed to the comfort and numbness of nothingness.

However long I was there I do not know, it could've been an eternity it could've been mere minutes, I didn't want to know I just wanted to stay in this darkness forever with the world seeming so far away.

" _Christine_ "

That voice.

" _No Christine_ "

Erik. Eight long years since I had last heard his voice, heard my name upon his lips yet it still made my heart flutter. I tried to open my eyes to see Erik's face but I could not, death was too heavy and I was too weak to fight it.

"I can't Erik" I tried to whisper

"You can!" he thundered, his booming voice vibrating through my limp body "You can! Open your eyes and live Christine! You will not die tonight, you cannot die!"

As his voice echoed through my mind the blackness seemed to become more distant, life gripping hold of me and not willing to let go.

"Find me Christine" Erik whispered "Find me and save me as I have you".

Suddenly my eyes snapped open, but my…angel was not there. Was it real? I did not know, but I realised I had not fought off the perils of life to enable death to take me so willingly. Weakness was no option. Slowly I pulled myself away from the hard ground, my body convulsing from the freezing cold as I gripped my arms and dragged myself away from that wretched alleyway and back out onto the Parisian streets.

I had to find somewhere. Raoul was bound to have woken the neighbours when he screamed my name, they would all know who killed the Viscount and they would be searching the whole of Paris, the whole of France to see me pay for my crime. I shuddered at the thought of what they would do to me. With what little strength I had left in me I knew where I had to go.

The past may haunt us but it can also help us.

I was not far, half running and half stumbling my way past the decadent townhouses I found my way to the less privileged streets of Paris, with humble homes and littered streets…there would I find my Havana. The house stood before me seemingly glowing against the grey night, its worn windows radiating an opening light. I dragged myself to the beaten door, knocking feebly with the little strength I had left. Cautiously the door cracked open until the inhabitant saw my face and gasped

"Christine!"

"Help me please" I breathed, before collapsing at the feet of Madame Giry. 


End file.
